


Domesticity At Its Best

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: He's Just Like His Daddy [14]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Fluff, I needed to write this, M/M, Mpreg, One Shot, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:16:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Person A is in bed reading a book. Person B enters and climbs into bed with them. Without looking up person A raises their arm so that person B can crawl under and snuggle up with them. Person B falls asleep)</p><p>Mickey's really tired after putting Owen to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity At Its Best

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Grace's birth - it's obvious that Mickey is pregnant with her though ahahaha
> 
> I love writing for this series... okay

“You good, little man?”

Owen nodded up towards his father, his comforter up to his chin as his grin dimmed into a tired yawn, his wide green-blue eyes looking up with awe. Mickey tucked him in for the last time, tickling him the sides playfully before leaning down and pressing a kiss into his son's red hair that contrasted hugely to the white shade of his pillow.

Reaching up towards Mickey, the little boy wraps his arms around his fathers neck, tugging him down into a tight hug. “Night, Daddy.” He mumbles against his ear. As Mickey leans back, a smile against his face, Owen shifts up to whisper against the bump. “Night, Night, little baby.”

Mickey can't help his heart from twisting and curling into a mixture of affection. Despite being a cunning little devil, his son was the most adorable little boy in the world; he had Ian to thank for that. He ruffles his son's hair, before stepping up, hand still on his bump. “Right, come on, get some sleep.”

For a moment, Mickey waits back the half-closed door, listening to Owen's soft, steady breathing as he drifted off into sleep, then finally – with a smile against his lips – he grasps the handle. He moved it shut as quietly as possible, flickering the light off as he led himself out of the door. It was crazy to think that Owen was at that age; two whole years had flown by like a rocket into space, Mickey had never expected it to be as good as it was.

He moved quietly towards his and Ian's room down the hall, pushing the door open and pressing it closed against its hinges. “Kid never fucking sleeps.” He remarks, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his bump.

Ian hums from his seat against their bed, his back pressed against the headboard, a book in his hands. He glances up for a moment, his face curling up into a smile at the sight of Mickey standing there watching him. “I wonder why.”

Mickey huffs a sarcastic laugh, “Fuck off.” He walks over towards the bathroom at the far corner, flicking on the light as he mumbled _dick_ under his breath. He kicks off his sweats, throwing them into the far corner with all of the dirty towels and some of Owen's clothes from that day. After brushing his teeth and washing his face he finally walks back into the bedroom, a hand in his hair as sleep called out his name. 

Ian didn't look up as Mickey entered the room, fully enchanted by the words spread out across the pages before him. Mickey didn't bother calling him out on it, instead he crawls across the mattress, holding a firm hand against his bump as he shuffled against the sheets. With a slight struggle he manages to pull the blanket over him, pulling it across his bump and up his chest. He scoots over to Ian, resting his head against the arm that had been holding the book. 

Without speaking, Ian raised his arm instinctively and Mickey instantly slipped beneath it, his head leaning against Ian's bare shoulder. Mickey curled his arm around Ian's waist, fingers tracing over the soft, pale skin. There was a sense of comfort that Mickey had found himself liking when this happened; it was calm, it peaceful, it was  _Ian._

Slowly, Mickey felt his eyes starting to droop, his body huddling closer to Ian's in a search for warmth. His head slips down to Ian's chest, his bump trapped between them. He could hear the faint thud of Ian's heart beat against his ear, the steady beat like a lullaby that Ian used to sing to Owen to get him to sleep. Mickey felt the words tumble through sleep, “I love you, man.”

Ian's gaze immediately lifts from his book, his eyes glancing down at Mickey who was curled against his side. His hand threads over the brunette's stomach, dancing over the bump elevated against his stomach. With his other hand, he shuts the book shut, placing it onto the night-stand. He leans down, kissing into Mickey's tussled hair. “I love you, too, you big sap.”

Gently, Ian moves himself around until he's laid against his back, Mickey still curled against his chest. He switches the lamp off, pulling the blanket further over their bodies. He runs his fingers over the small bump, his right hand moving softly through Mickey's hair. The older boy hums causing Ian to smile.


End file.
